To Learn To Love Another
by Disney Rose
Summary: (Update Every Sunday) When Beast's own self doubt causes Belle's love to not break the curse, the two are confronted by how this will effect their lives and future. Please feel free to send me a message to make suggestions or with grammar corrections. Please review so I know if I should keep writing! Thank you in advance!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Her heart pounded in her chest as she held the damp edges of his cape, her face buried in the matted fur of his chest, tears falling down her cheeks as she sobbed over his lifeless form. There he lay, in all of his magnificent animalistic glory before her, having risked his life to protect her and fight for her honor against the intruder that had threatened his castle. One singular wound to the back from a hunting knife and he had fallen, there in the arms of this sweet, kind-hearted woman, who he had hoped would be the one to break the spell and free him from a lifetime as a hideous, monstrous beast. But now as he lay dying, on a small balcony outside the west wing in the pouring rain, his enchanted servants standing watch from the doorway, he didn't mind being beastly and he professed in his last moments, he was only happy to have seen her one last time before the end.

"Please, please, don't leave me," she whispered softly and for some reason she faltered, the words catching behind the large lump that had rested in her throat and in that singular moment, the last petal fell.

From a distance, the servants watched, and their eyes glanced upward to the glowing rose upon the table. A teapot, a candlestick and a clock all shrunk as their hopes died along with their master. Would they too stay this way forever?

"I love you." He was gone.

Suddenly from the sky there came soft jets of light, like drops of rain that fell all around her in a multitude of colors. She slowly lifted her head and glanced to the doorway of the balcony to Mrs. Potts and Lumiere. In a grand whirl of colors, they were swept up from the floor and spun through the colors and when all was over, they were gracefully placed down again on their feet, human again.

Belle gasped in shock, as she saw these people for the first time, never knowing that they had once been this way. Their clothes perfectly fit their forms as if their curse somehow matched their looks. Mrs. Potts was a rounded, sweet looking woman, in white linens with feminine accents and Lumiere wore gold and browns, puffs here and there as most aristocratic servants wore. As for Cogsworth, she'd never seen a man who appeared so clock-like. He was board and even had a strange little mustache that tipped up on one side.

How could she have never known about this spell? It had been kept a secret from her all this time. Had all of them been depending on her? And more importantly, she wondered, how she had broken this curse. Lastly, what did this mean for the one she cared for most, the Beast.

She glanced down at him again, his body still lying there without any sign of movement. Had she really been too late to save him too? She sniffled softly, pushing her face down again into his soft fur, as the others grabbed each other, laughing and cheerfully embracing. She felt so desperately alone. She glanced up at his face, tears gently cascading down her porcelain cheeks as she cupped his in her hand, beholding his fearsome features. She looked over every part of him without fear of offending him, a fear she had had from the moment they met. In her eyes through, no matter what he was, he was so handsome and kind. She had grown to see past his exterior, and more importantly, help him to grow past his anger and let go of the pain and resentment he'd had for so long. It couldn't end like this, not when finally she had admitted to herself that she felt for him.

She wept sweetly beside him and soon, all the servants were about her, Mrs. Potts keeping them just far enough away so Belle might have one last moment with her Beast. Belle's knuckles gently slid over his cheek and she leaned in as close as she'd ever been, whispering against his cheek, her lips to his ear.

"I love you so much," she murmured, and turned to his lips, and placed a soft kiss there, his protruding teeth cold against her lip. And then, there was a breath and she moved sat up quickly to look him over. He was breathing now, even though he was not awake. She let out a burst of tears, her eyes shooting up to Mrs. Potts.

"He's breathing. He's alive," she almost yelped, the trio joining her by her side quickly, along with a few more people who had begun to accumulate at the door.

"That he is, my dear," Mrs. Potts agreed, placing her hand on Belle's shoulder. Belle shivered and stared at the old woman, bewildered by the figure before her, who for so long had been nothing more than a common household teapot. Mrs. Potts signaled to two men in the door, a pair of guards, who came forward and helped to take the beast to his quarters. Belle unwillingly moved away from him, standing with her hand against her mouth as they carried him away, left in the strange yet familiar company of Lumiere, Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth. Her tears had given way to confusion as she glanced around at all the new faces, and then to the elderly woman again.

"What's going on?" Belle whispered gently, stepping closer to them.

"I suppose the girl does deserve some sort of explanation," Cogsworth muttered to Lumiere, the slender man nodding in agreement. Lumiere then looked back to their Prince, who still retained his cursed form and then to the girl who had broken their spell.

"The question is," Lumiere pondered, "What has happened? Who can be sure?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been a strange few days in the castle for Belle, learning so many unusual thing that she'd never even dreamed would occur outside the pages of one of her storybooks. From what she understood after hours of conversation, courtesy of Mrs. Potts, her Beast was cursed long ago by some sort of enchantress, who left him and all the residents of the castle, locked in the forms of household objects. The rose she had found, had been the symbol and hour glass of the curse and yesterday its last petal fell. It was unclear to everyone in the castle what had happened and why the master had stayed the same. Perhaps Belle had been too late. She had not been able to profess her love in time, even though she had felt it for a long time. Perhaps the Beasts curse was more fragile than theirs. Perhaps this was just the way the witch made sure not everyone suffered for him. No one was sure, but what they knew was that he remained a beast and every other individual who had been affected was cured.

Belle lingered by his side for days, reading or laying by his side when she knew no one would interrupt them. The kiss she'd bestowed upon him had somehow saved his life, however leaving him in some sort of deep sleep. She liked to be there beside him, waiting until he woke, because she realized how frightened she would be, waking up alone in his situation.

She spent so many hours just staring at his sweet face, her hand lingering over his exposed arms and cheeks. She sat with her legs folded to her one side, her back against the plush headboard, her fingers slipping through his mane. Once or twice he had huffed or moved when she had tickled or touched a special spot, but other than that, he remained in a dream.

She'd never been able to appreciate his form for so long. It was an endless exploration, it seemed. Before she had been afraid to look at him; now she felt no hesitation staring his pleasant sleeping form. After he had been brought inside, he had been bathed and his wounds dressed. She had met the castle's doctor for the first time and he had assured her that he would be fine as long as he was allowed his rest. They had brought him into another room, one untouched by his wrath. It was a beautiful white and gold room at the corner of the castle, with panels all along the wall. There was a large marble fireplace and windows along two sides of the walls. The Beast lay in a large bed with a luxurious golden embroidered blanket and almost too many soft pillows about his head. Above was a long set of curtains that draped down from the tall ceiling and over the edges of the bed, so that one might pull them closed to escape to morning sun. Mrs. Potts had told her, this was his room before he had begun sleeping in the west wing. Belle had supposed he felt he was undeserving of such human splendor.

She couldn't help but think it was foolish of him as she stared down at him, his regal, lion-like form among the royal colors and silk fabrics. He lay on his back with his blankets coming up over his chest, his auburn fur exposed from his lack of clothing. She could see just the edge of his bandage as he moved slowly to his side as her hand slipped over his cheek. He stirred.

"B-belle?" he whispered gruffly, his eyes wincing at the light as he stared up at her. She didn't move but smiled softly. Her hand continued its gentle stroking; she hoped to keep him calm now that he was injured.

"It's alright," she murmured gently, "I'm here now. You're safe. Everything is going to be alright."

"You've said that a lot lately," he almost chuckled, his voice still soft and deep. His body shook a little with the beginnings of laughter, but he winced moments later, feeling the wound on his back.

"Careful," she urged, placing her hand on his chest, shifting down so that he could see her without moving again, "You're still hurt. It's only been a few days. Do you remember what happened?" He thought for a moment, his heavy brown knit in confusion as he attempted to piece together what had happened.

"I was outside. You were there. It was raining. There was a man and my back," he grumbled softly, then glanced up at her with the sudden realization at the confession of her love. It couldn't be true. He must have dreamed it all up. His eyes shot down to his paws, huffing in frustration as he lay back. It had been a dream. Belle watched him for a moment, realizing what thoughts might have been going through his mind. She wondered if now was the best time to explain or if waiting might help him understand.

"Beast," she murmured softly, placing her hand on his paw, pulling it to her cheek and cuddling against the fur, knowing this might be her last moment of calm before the tempest of his temper lashed forth, "I think you should know something happened while you were asleep."

He glanced up at her, his brow peaked in interest and surprise at this show of affection. It filled his heart with excitement to think even after all this time, she came back and still felt this way for him, but her tone worried him slightly. Perhaps she would leave him yet again?

Just as she parted her lips to speak, a small knock came at the door and it pushed opened.

"I thought you might like a nice cup of tea, my dear. It's almost time for lunch," Mrs. Potts bubbled, carrying a large tray with a cup and pot that looked much like herself only a few days before. She stopped though, staring at the two of them on the bed, the beasts eyes zeroing in on her human form, as if something in his mind were snapping. Mrs. Potts just stood there, eyes widened as she looked back and forth from him to Belle.

He stared up at Belle too now, then to his paws again, then to Mrs. Potts, his mind wildly racing to make sense of all of this. It couldn't be. The curse couldn't be broken without him. What had happened? What had she done? What had he done wrong?

"Belle," he urged almost in a panic as the rage built inside him, "What's going on?" He bellowed now, Belle's eyes snapping shut as he shouted. Mrs. Potts quickly put the tray down on the table and turned to him again.

"Now master, don't blame the girl. None of us understand what's happened-," Mrs. Potts insisted, placing her hands up on either side in defense but before she could finish, the Beast had shot up from his place in the bed, uncaring of the sharp pain he felt in his back as he moved back and forth, pacing at Belle's side.

"Get out!" he growled, turning towards his servant with his mouth more animal like than before, his words turning to a vicious roar as tears welled in his eyes. She quickly obeyed him and he turned to Belle again, his eyes pitiful and filled with fear and rage. "What happened?" he demanded, staring down at Belle as she carefully watched his large form move back and forth, her eyes shifting down every so often to his bandages which were now, once again, soaked with blood as he pulled the wound open in his movements. She winced at the thought.

"I don't know. I- I said I loved you, and they changed back but you didn't," she whispered regrettably, guilt in her voice as she fought back the urge to cry. She'd never agreed with the Beasts outbursts, but for this one time, she knew it was the proper reaction and somehow this was probably her fault.

"You wh-," he began as if he expected her to say something outrageous. Perhaps she or another intruder had touched the rose. Perhaps his almost death had prevented him from changing. He was ready to burst again, but when she admitted that she had said what he thought she had, his anger somehow melted in an instant. "You what?" he repeated, calmly and almost with confusion, as if it was the most beautiful lie he'd ever heard. When his speech changed she nearly began to cry. He was so much gentler now than he had been when they first met. It broke her heart to think that the only thing keeping him a human now, was her compassion and her love.

"I said, I said I loved you. I don't know what I did wrong. They all changed back but you remained this way," she said softly, staring up into his eyes. Suddenly the beast felt light headed and silly for his outburst. Now he was bleeding again and as he felt himself calm, he felt ill again. He sat down beside her on the bed, placing his paws on the soft linen of his pants, his eyes lowered in thought, unsure what to say. He couldn't think of anything she could have possibly done wrong. He wondered to himself in these past few weeks as they had drawn closer, just what his goal had been. Was he trying to become human again, or was he trying to obtain her love? The obvious answer was the latter, but now he was sure that he would never be able to keep her. Who could ever possibly learn to love such a monster?

"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured her, surprised when he felt her hand touch his. He turned to look into her eyes. Perhaps when she said it, she had not meant it, but then why would all of the other have changed back.

She looked down, frowning gently as she watched his heaving form, the bandages now coming undone. She slipped off the bed, pushing the edges of her green dress down over her legs again as she moved up to the table beside the bed and looked back to him.

"I'm going to have to fix those now," she said pointedly, her eyes darting to the bandages. He remembered the last time she dressed his wounds, back when he had saved her from wolves after he frightened her out of the castle. She had helped him back and after all their fighting, she'd somehow managed to be kind to him. That was the moment he'd realized she was different, that she was the one. She was the one who might help him. However, here they were, and the spell had been broken but he was still a monster.

He nodded and pulled away the bandages with one hand, getting up off the bed and approaching a tall mirror that stood in the corner. He turned and looked down at the large wound on his back. His fur there was missing and he could see the stitches that had held him together, some now broken and tugging, causing him to bleed again. He winced softly and returned to the bed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered sincerely as he lay down on his stomach, glancing up at her, "For losing my temper." She smiled sadly, placing her hand on his cheek as he watched her prepare the soft cloth pieces and balsam.

"Of all the reasons to be upset, this is the most understandable," she said softly, returning to her work. She moved back and forth and then took a small bowl with watcher and a rag, carefully dabbing at the cut. He let out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth and wincing. One eye popped open and stared at her, sheepishly looking down. He felt awkward now. He had yet to acknowledge what she'd said. All he'd wanted was for her to love him and now that she did, he had a million questions but he couldn't think of how to ask any of them.

"Mrs. Potts told me about the curse," she said finally, moving on to smoothing the cooling balsam over the stitches.

"What did she say?" he asked, unable to mask the worry in his voice. His eyes closed, indulging in the feeling of her delicate fingers lingering over his flesh, the pain soothed by it and the balm.

"That your beastly qualities were what got you into this mess to begin with," she said, almost scolding him. He drew his lips back in a wince again, this time for emotional reasons. "She told me you were a young man. It was a mistake and all of you were cursed, until someone came to break the spell," she continued, frowning when she thought that she had failed.

He watched her now, seeing the regret in her eyes. She was so kind to feel guilt for his mistakes. Perhaps it was all for pity, even if she'd never known there was a spell to break.

"Why did you stay?" he asked softly, his eyes locking with hers. She smiled tenderly, and wiped the excess cream from her fingers before placing her hand on his.

"I stayed because it was the right thing to do. I meant what I said. I didn't know you could be or ever were another way. I learned to love you in this form and I still do? Why would I change my mind now?" she whispered kindly, leaning down beside the bed, her face closer to his as she brushed her knuckles over the soft fur of his cheeks. He could feel his heart beating faster again, feeling secure for the first time in ages about her intentions and how she felt. He reached out, a clawed hand softly holding her long brown hair back from her face. It felt like silk to his padded paws. Altogether she was so delicate and soft. Just touching her was so different than anything he ever remembered. She was finer than gold and more soft than velvet. Just being close to her filled him with the urge to protect and care for her, even though it seemed as strong and monstrous as he was, she was always caring for him.

"You love me then?" he asked, his voice still mirroring the disbelief in his heart. Her eyes met with his and she moved in closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel his moist breath against her lips.

"I do love you. I'll never leave you as long as you want me here," she said lovingly, resting her forehead against his. She was afraid now to kiss him. Before he had been moments from death and now she was felt shy for some reason, feeling his gaze locked on hers.

"Now that you know that, I have to bandage you," she mused, with a little giggle, sitting up and going back to her work.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dinner had been served to the Beast in his bed, with Belle sitting by his side. She had helped him with his spoon after much protesting but he had to admit he enjoyed the attention she'd been giving him. He had fallen asleep sometime after, listening as she read him stories, the soft whispering of her voice, sending tingles down his spine. It relaxed him and lulled him to sleep.

Now she sat with a book in her hands, sitting on a large plush chair beside the bed, falling asleep herself. She'd been there for hours, but for the past three days, this had been the routine. She would stay there by his side by candlelight, reading until she couldn't hold her eyes opened any longer and fall asleep by his side, waiting for him to wake up. The castle had long since been quiet, and she guessed it was some time after midnight, since the Beast had been asleep for quite a while, but she was used to sleeping here and no one bothered her about it anymore. She was too stubborn to change rooms. She hadn't even changed into her nightgown, the long sleeves of her velvet green dress warm and soft like a blanket, cradling her as she slowly nodded off.

The large book in her lap was another one of her fairytales. It was the same she used to read before she'd become a part of one herself. It was a leather book with a painted cover, the pages frayed on the edges and as she relaxed into the chair, it slipped down over her knees and to the floor with a loud crack as she coiled up into a little ball, her chin tucked into the cushioned back.

The Beast jolted away, the sound of the book having ripped him from his peaceful slumber. He looked over at her little body, hunched over on the seat beside him, the book on the floor and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Belle?" he whispered more softly than normal, his voice smooth and even. She turned with a little whimper, tucking deeper into her position. It wasn't until he saw her retreating from the cold that he noticed the fireplace had burned down to cinders. He couldn't let her sit there in the cold, but all the same he couldn't wake her. He frowned softly, sitting up in the bed and getting up carefully, hoping not to hurt himself again. He moved over to the fireplace and began preparing the fire. He would glance back at her every now and then, checking to see if he had woken her, but she remained there sleeping peacefully. Once he was finished he placed the grate back in front of the flames and came back to her side. He felt almost guilty letting her sleep in the chair. He moved to her side then looked at the bed, then back to her. In an instant, he'd effortlessly picked her up in his arms without hurting his back and placed her down in his bed. He sat down beside her and slipped his hand down her leg, taking off one tiny shoe at the time. The small garment fit into his palm as if it were meant for a child. He wondered if this was truly how large he was or if she had exceptionally small feet. It had been quite some time since he'd seen a foot, female or otherwise. He had nothing to compare her to. But as true as that was, he remarked how sweet and tiny she was, how small compared to him and it saddened him as well as made him smile and love her even more.

He pulled the thick heavy blankets up over her before staring up at her face again. Perhaps he could go to the west wing and allow her a good night's rest. He stood carefully and picked up her book, returning it to her chair before blowing out the candle and heading towards the door. He slowly turned the knob and before he stepped out into the dark hall, he heard a soft groan from behind him. He turned to see her sitting up on her side, one arm extended to hold her up as she rubbed her eye with the other.

"Where are you going?" she whispered groggily, staring at him with her eyes half opened in the darkness.

"I-I thought I'd let you sleep in here. I would find somewhere else to sleep," he said quietly, still standing in the door.

"I've slept with you in here the past few nights. It's alright," she encouraged, laying back down again, "Come on. They all know I've been sleeping in here. They don't have to know where. Besides, I'm cold." She smiled softly, rolling onto her back and stretching out as she glanced down at her dress. She chuckled softly as she got up out of the bed and went to the corner where she had her clothes behind a screen for dressing. She pointed to the bed again as she stood there bewildered by her request. "Go on," she insisted, stepping behind the screen to change into her nightgown.

He stood there for a moment, staring before considering his options. In a normal relationship, it would be most strange for a pair to sleep together before marriage, but given the circumstances, he doubted such intimacies would ever happen, so perhaps it was alright. He doubted no matter how much she ever loved him, that she would want him in that way. So at least on for now, it was innocent. She said herself that she had slept there before. Perhaps the damage was already done. He finally argued with himself enough and agreed, closing the door behind him and locking it just in case someone were to come in and see them that way, or see her in her night dress. It was the least he could do to shield her from embarrassment.

"Are you sure?" he asked, slowly making his way to the bed and pulling himself under the blankets, turning away to face the window. Maybe it was the gentlemanly thing to do not to look as she made her way to the bed. He would be able to see her in the firelight, her animal-like eyes helping him find the shapes of her curves more easily. He shook his head, concentrating on the little snowflakes outside that fell on the window.

"I offered, didn't I?" she said softly, stepping out from behind the screen and moving across the room and shedding a long robe. Then in her nightgown she slid into the blankets behind him, her body small and bundled behind him. He lay there frozen, too shy to roll over until she placed her hand on his back. "Would you like to go to sleep or talk for a little while?" she asked sweetly, carefully moving her delicate fingers over his bandages.

Against his better judgment he rolled over, glancing down at her as he lay on his side facing her. He attempted not to show how it affected him, seeing her there with the blankets pulled up over her shoulder, just the top of her chest showing, the fabric teasing that skin was visible below. Her hands moved out and she came closer to him, pressing her frame against his chest. She smiled gently, indulging in the feeling of the warm sensuous fur against her chest and cheeks. Inside he was fall apart. How could this be happening to him? How was it that all his dreams were coming true even though he retained this body? He sighed contently, slipping his large arm under her neck to support her, the other paw coming to her cheek, carefully slipping through her hair again. They were silent for a while, both laying there were their eyes closed, under the same soft blanket, feeling so in love in this strange circumstance.

"Thank you," she whispered softly against his fur, sending shivers down all the way to his tail.

"Why would you have to thank me?" he mumbled back, gently grazing down her neck with her claw-like nails.

"You stayed," she answered. And suddenly he felt everything at once, the feeling he'd never thought he'd feel, finally coming to him. He was finally allowing himself to accept it.

"I love you, Belle," he confessed, finally breathing the words he had wanted to for so long. Perhaps he was partly to blame for the amount of time it took for her to break the spell. If she had known he was capable of love, maybe she would have been more willing to love in return or the spell being unbroken was his fault entire. He suddenly realized it must be true. He had never allowed himself to fully love her. She had done her part. It wasn't until now that he could tell her too. This was the first demand of the curse. He was unable to love another, no matter how much she loved him in return. He was too hideous to accept the truth until now.

"I love you too," she said, glancing up at him with a little smile, "I just have one question."

"Anything."

"Mrs. Potts told me, you had a name once, but she wouldn't tell me. She said you made everyone swear to never say it again. Why?" she whispered, her fingers tickling soft patterns against the fur on his chest. He thought for a moment, the memory almost as hard to recall as a dream from years past.

"The same reason it took me so long to say those words. It hurt too much to be reminded that I was a man, I suppose," he said softly, letting out a gentle sigh, "It's silly now." She always had a way of making him feel so sheepish and embarrassed. It was completely unlike him, even when he was a human before.

"It is silly. You're still a man," she said tenderly, shifting herself up to come closer to him, wrapping her arm around him to bring him into a hug, her arm reaching as far around him as she could, her chin and cheek buried into his neck and her chest against his. He responded warmly, slipping both arms around her and holding her firmly but with a strange gentleness, his cheek against the top of her hair. He breathed her in, her hair smelling of peaches and tea- pages of books. "Please…I want to know your name." Her voice was so calm, like an echo, calming his soul, making him feel more like a man than he'd ever felt before.

"Adam," he answered, the name tasting strange on his tongue. She pulled away slowly, staring into his bright blue eyes. Adam was such a perfect name for the man she'd seen in his portrait. Adam was such a perfect name for this creature before her. It seemed so unfair she'd referred to him as 'Beast' for so long. He was so far from that. He was no beast at all now.

"I love you, Adam," she said softly, the words melting into him and causing his eyes to well. She was the most wonderful creature he'd ever seen, and here she was saying his name, speaking of love. She saw him as a man. She stared up at him, her big brown eyes locking with his and all at once be felt some strange release. He let his lips come to hers, pressing gently, letting go of every worry that she might scream or push him away. And she didn't. The moment he kissed her, she sighed happily, glad to finally feel his lips again, after all this time, pretending she hadn't kissed him. She wanted him to decide. Beast pulled away carefully, looking down into her eyes with a sheepish grin.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, seeming more amused than sincere.

"It's alright. I was wondering when I'd get to kiss you again," she cooed, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"Again?" he questioned, surprise knitted all over his face. She giggled in response.

"After you were hurt, after I said I loved you, I kissed you. I was too embarrassed to say so," she admitted, biting her lip softly. He stared down at her in surprise. All these things had been left unsaid, but somehow they always managed to come out. She'd loved him truly all this time.

"You kissed a beast?" he whispered, still seeming in disbelief.

"Yes," she mused sweetly, "and I'll kiss him as many times as he'd ever wish."

The Beast needed no more coddling or convincing. This was enough. He pulled her close again, this kiss more deep and passionate. Somehow her mouth was small enough to fit just between his tusks as if she were made to kiss his monstrous lips. And when she parted her lips, he followed, allowed her sweet tongue to graze along his. Her hands were on either side of his cheeks, pulling him close and daring him to hold her too. His body responded and he felt himself eagerly wrapping his arms around her, one hand slipping up her spine to cradle the back of her head, fingers lacing through her hair. It was slow and heavy, the two of them indulging in each other's tastes. His fur brushed against her cheeks and lips at times, causing her to giggle but she'd always return, hoping to assure him that her laughs were from pleasure and not at anything he had done wrong. He let his left arm wrapped all the way around her, holding her carefully and securely. His paw came to rest on her left hip from behind, nearly wrapping all the way around her waist. The sensation was so sweet that Belle began to feel aroused by his touch. It had started off so simple. It was only a kiss. But now she felt herself filled with a foreign desire that she was unprepared to feel. She let out a soft groan as she pulled away, looking up into his eyes again. He kept them closed for a moment before biting his lip softly and letting them slowly open, the pools of blue hazy and calm as if waking from a peaceful slumber.

"See," she whispered, "You're a man to me. I could never wish for anything other than you." Her voice was a calm breath, and she came to rest her head on his shoulder. He was feeling guilty but pleased. Through all of this, he'd promised himself to be the gentleman, never taking advantage of her, but it seemed they both were unaware how much they would affect each other. He could smell something unusual as she pressed her body to his. It was something he'd never smelt before but for some strange reason, his body knew what it was and he was helpless to react. She was feeling the same way he was. She was feeling heated. He could smell the sweet pheromones lingering on her neck and between her legs. The Beast would have blushed if he were a man. He could feel the sudden desire building inside him as his animalistic urges took his mind to dark fantasies filled with her curves beneath the sheets and the wetness between her legs. He shook himself and pulled her off of him, lying on his back as to hide the inevitable tightening bulge he could feel against his leg. He wouldn't allow his urges to get the better of him, or embarrass either of them. No matter how much her body reacted to him and no matter how much she loved him, he was still something other than a man. The thought of her even allowing him to take her was so unrealistic to him that he wouldn't dare bring it up, or let her see his arousal.

She flopped over as he pushed her back, frowning gently.

"What's wrong?" she murmured in a hurt tone, coming close to him again.

"I'm sorry, I'm just….tired," he said finally, looking over at her and offering his arm for her. She shifted close to his left side cuddling up to his warm chest and closing her eyes contently.

"Alright. I am too," she mused softly, placing a gentle kiss against his chest. She wiggled gently, rubbing her legs together before wrapping one around his leg, nearly causing him to jump. If her leg had moved just a bit closer to his right leg her knee would have brushed his arousal. He gulped heavily, attempted to calm himself out of the sensation as he had tried to with his temper and soon the powerful heat had faded and given way to the urge for sleep.

She leaned up, playfully grabbing his horn and steering his lips to hers before flopping back down at his side.

"I love you," she murmured, nuzzling into his fur.

"I love you too," he answered, carefully smoothing back her hair. He had to be more careful from now on. It embarrassed him to think of her finding out about his excitement. Kisses were one thing but intimacy was something completely different. He'd never been with a woman before he turned into a beast and he'd assumed she'd never been with anyone else. He knew he was very different than other men and the thought of asking her to accept this frightened him. He had already basically forced her to accept so many other things about how her life would be if it were with him and she'd chosen to stay. Perhaps a life of innocence would be the kindest thing he could give in return. He was ashamed of himself. He lay there staring at the window, feeling her softness against him, wishing for nothing more than to have her this way beside him in his sleep for all time, but he would never be able to give her this. He could kiss her; he could marry her if she wished for it, but make love to her? It wasn't right. He could feel himself fully calm as he glanced down at her again, nodding in and out of sleep. He'd make it easy on her. He'd do his best to keep her love, but make sure she never had to make the choice to love him in that way too no matter how deeply either of them desired it. He promised himself.


	4. Chapter 4

I'd like to apologize for the lack of updates. I'm actually about to go to Disneyworld and I've been very busy planning and getting ready for my trip. Hopefully once I get back, I can update more regularly. Thank you so much for your patience. I just want everyone to know, I plan on continuing this story until it's finished. If you have any questions, feel free to write me a private message or review, as I frequently check my inbox. Thanks guys!

Chapter 4

Adam stirred in his sleep as the bright morning sun peeked through the large golden curtains, a singular stream of light falling on his eyes. They snapped open instinctively and a wince knotted his face in discomfort. He felt the instant urge to move but stopped as he realized he was not alone. It was a strange sensation, waking up in the embrace of a woman. It was the first time in his life he had been granted such a privilege and for a moment he dared himself to wake up as if he had been caught in some dream and every pleasant memory of his intimacy with Belle had been a mere fantasy. But he was happy to find that when the grogginess of sleep began to fade, she remained there. Her soft face was plastered into his chest, her slender fingers delicately clenching fists of fur as she held close to him. He smiled down at her, his large paw easily cradling her head as he inhaled her sweet scent.

He always thought to himself, the woman that would replace his rose would have the same scent, and almost feared the notion that something he loved would smell the same as something that held him prisoner for so long. Her scent wasn't of roses. She smelled altogether unique and different. Her hair smelled of lavender and chamomile, like tea and honey. She had an aura of freshness, as if she had bathed only moments before but at the same time, she smelled of old crisp pages of ancient books. It was new and old; it was sweet and earthy. It was heavenly to him, and nothing like a flower. It filled him with feelings of romance, something he was entirely unused to experiencing. He had the innocent desire to feel her lips to his when he caught this scent. He felt the urge to hold her close and keep that scent from lingering or leaving. He supposed if he was a man, he would become used to this smell and for the first time, he agreed that perhaps there were good things about being something other than a man. He would always be able to enjoy this succulent treat, his lover's perfume.

Adam allowed his eyes to linger over her face, taking in her gentle beauty as he carefully removed her from his chest and laid her down beside him on the large feathered pillow. Her skin was like cream, pale and flawless, no signed of distress or fatigue, no bags below her eyes or blemishes. Her lips were blushed and pink, parting minimally as she breathed, her little teeth brushing her skin. He had the urge to touch them and trace them with his clawed finger, fantasizing of how soft and supple they would feel if he felt their outline and over the highly defined arch of her cupid's bow. He knew he would wake her, so the task was done with his eyes, his breath hitching in his throat and causing him to swallow hard at mere idea of the sensation. His bright blue orbs then came to her eyes, her dark black lashes brushing against her flushed cheeks, her eyes moving from side to side as if in a dream, her angular brows arched almost in happy surprise. She looked so at peace.

She lay back her hand still curled into a lose grip by her head her other placed over her belly. His eyes continued their inspection, then exploring the beautiful mess that was her chestnut hair. She had begun the night with a white ribbon pulling every strand back into a tail at the base of her skull, but now it fell about her like the mane of a lion. He smiled, daring to reach out and brush a few rogue swatches away from her forehead and eyes. She stirred slightly but only moments later, it was clear she hadn't been disturbed.

Adam thought back to all the times he'd seen her with her hair free and flowing. Every time had been a moment were for some reason or another, he felt more close to her than before. The night he had scared her away after she ventured into the west wing, she'd been thrown from her horse. When they returned, she had nursed his injuries and her hair was down then. That, he recalled, was the first time he took note of her fiery personality and began to love her. The night she had left him, after they had their special night filled with dancing and romance. That was the night he realized how much he cared for her. When she left, he felt as though he would die of heart break. And most importantly, when she returned, and as he lay dying he brushed her hair away from her weeping eyes as they comforted each other. And now, the morning after they'd both openly confessed their love and spent the night together, sleeping side by side. Perhaps this is why he felt such a strong loving feeling towards her seeing her this way. Every moment her hair was free was a moment he treasured for other reasons. He made a note to treasure this moment too; her sleeping form beside his reminding him of her incomparable beauty and his endless love.

It was at his moment that it occurred to him to let his eyes linger lower, to her exposed neck and chest, a deep knot forming in his throat as he could feel a great swelling beneath his breeches. It was a morning normality, of course, but it had never been spurred on by such obvious stimulation. Sudden guilt overtook him as he quickly flicked his eyes up to her face again, almost expecting her to be watching, ready to chide him for his wandering glances but her eyes remained shut, her breathing calm and steady.

"_Perhaps_," he thought to himself, clutching the blankets between his large paws, "_perhaps just looking won't hurt_." Free from judgment, he glanced down again, his eyes greedily staring where he'd never dared before. Her neck arched as her chin turned away from him, her heart beat visible through her delicate flesh, the rhythmic thumping causing her skin to dance. He followed that curve to her shoulders and the lace border of her nightgown, the large opening falling on the top of each shoulder, affording a view of her collar bones in the bight morning light, the angles of her bones creating soft shadows on her skin. And then his eyes slowly traced the edge of her nightgown's collar from her shoulders all the way down to the succulent mounds of flesh that nestled there. Her breasts almost seemed overexposed, the tightness of the gown causing lines above and between, showing the true suppleness of them. He let out a soft whimper as his organ became more engorged. She was so lovely, he feel that he might burst just from the look of her. He had to stop.

Throwing the blankets off of himself, he stepped out of the bed and looked down, the thickness of his member pressed against his leg now, obvious through the white linen of his pants. He glanced over his shoulder at her, moving to the door on the other side of the room and entering the small room that lay beside the bed chamber. It had a few seats, one of which was cut out of the wall, curtains hanging over and mirrors at the back so one might lay there and read in the shelter from the sun or chat with friends. It was almost a secret room, the door appearing as if it were just a part of the wall. He closed it eagerly and paced back and forced, his arousal bringing him such discomfort. He'd only ever felt this aroused once or twice before in his entire life. All other times, he merely ignored the organ and it returned to its normal state, but for some reason now, as he thought again of her laying there beside him, he felt the unbridled urge or satisfy himself. He'd only ever attempted the task a few times, too ashamed of himself to finish more often than not but now he didn't find the thought disgraceful. He was too far gone into this feeling. She had changed something in him. He was feeling less and less shame ever since she came. So he was resolved to see this arousal dispatched in the most enjoyable way he would allow.

He moved to the door, locking it and went to the small cushioned seat in the wall. He quickly unsnapped the front of his breeches, careful to remove them without too much discomfort. His tail began wagging instinctively as he placed the white ball of fabric on the seat and he stood before the mirror, glancing down at the thick, pulsing organ between his legs, hanging from the sheer weight of it. It was somewhere between the member of a man and a dog, like aroused and reddened human flesh in color but having come from a sheath-like holder that concealed it when it was not in use. It was shiny and wet from self-lubrication, and thick as the wrist of an average man, and almost a foot in length. To Adam's size as a beast, he knew it was proportional but to Belle it would most likely seem quite large and monstrous. It jumped at the passing thought of her face, shocked and almost frightened to see it for the first time in all its glory.

He took hold of it in an instant, the softness of his own paws causing a slight groan to slip from his lips. He thought back to her skin. His hand began to move up and down, teasing and slow, his other paw coming to support his weight, gripping the top of the cut out, nails digging into the curtains as his eyes snapped shut. Her lips. He moved more, the length of him easily slipping through his large hand, as a normal man would touch himself. The arch of her neck. He groaned helplessly, dropping to his knees before the seat, his hand reaching out and pawing at the lavender fabric of the cushion. He thought of her breasts and how easily he could have ripped the dress open, imagining the beauty of her naked flesh, the pertness of her youthful breasts, the soft curls that would inevitably cover her womanhood. How wet and tight it would be if he were to bury his manhood deep between her thighs. He moaned again, thinking of her cries of pleasure to feel such a large fulfilling object ravaging her, taking her, loving her. He bowed forward as he helplessly quickened his motions, his face buried in the cushions, muffling his bestial growls.

He began to pant as his pleasure mounted, the flesh twitching in his grip as his mind let him imagine himself over her, her sweet voice calling out to him as he plunged into her again and again. His hips bucked as his tail tucked between his legs, stiff and shivering. He breathed heavily, imagining her never for a second protesting or fearing his size, never being harmed by his claws or deepness. His cheek was lying against the cushion, eyes closed, deep in his fantasy, loving her as his hips moved more quickly than any man could ever achieve as he felt the greatest point of pleasure. He thought of nothing but her. He thought of pleasuring her. He thought of her anguished moans as he brought her to climax and suddenly he was there. He moved in jolts, slamming his member through his hand and his fist against his pelvic bone, spurts of hot, steaming whiteness jetting out. With each incredibly hard thrust it spurted forth again, leaking all over the marble floor and pooling just before his knees.

A deep growl of pleasure slithered from his lips as he completed his last motion, shivers running down his spine as he lay there thinking of her. He felt amazing in the afterglow, allowing himself to breathe more easily, even though every other breath he drew in would shake in his lungs as if he might cry. He sat up, looking at himself in the mirror as he sat on his knees. Perhaps she could love him as she had in his fantasy. Perhaps she would delight in his girth and scream in pleasure as he railed into her.

He shook his head, the haze of pleasure leaving him. He had never even thought of these things before. This wasn't the romantic love making he'd fantasized about. This was pure animalistic fucking he had thought about. He hung his head, glancing down at the mess he'd made, his member now retreating back into its sheath.

This isn't the way he wanted to take her. He wanted to love her. If he ever imagined what their first time would be like, he imagined her fear, and her pain. He imagined she would cry and he would comfort her but soon she would hold him close and he would cradle her in his arms and bring her to dark sweet pleasure and she would lie in his arms and whisper her love over and over. This was his fantasy, not ravaging her until she screamed. He was all at once filled with worry and fear. He knew he would attempt to control himself, but in that moment, would he ever be able to? He frowned deeply, shakily coming to his feet and pulling his breeches back on. He'd barely been able to make it here in time before he had to touch himself. It was too risky to even think of harming her that way. It was all the more reason to cement the promise he'd made to himself the night before. He could kill her in this fantasy. This was the only reality. He knew this now. He wouldn't risk hurting her for his own pleasure. There was no way the way he'd imagined it would happen either this animalistic way or making love. He would rip her apart if he took her. She was too delicate and soft. He slumped down burying his head in his hands as he thought of himself, caught in some trance, hips wildly moving against her as she cried for him to stop, his hideous body raping and destroying her pure form until the monster inside him was sated and her lifeless body lay beneath him.

All at once he was overcome with guilt and grief and he felt his eyes welling up with tears, his throat knotted with heat as he choked out a sob. He covered his face and wept, ashamed of himself for even imagining her in such a compromising way. He shook as he hunched over, the fur of his cheeks quickly becoming wet and streaked. What would he do? One day she would need to feel this kind of love and then what would he do? How could he even trust himself? And suddenly, there was a sound. It was delicate knuckles softly tapping on the door.

"Adam?" Belle called, concern in her voice at the sound of his tears. He jumped, staring at the door before glancing over at the mess on the ground. He wiped his eyes and before thinking, he pulled the curtain down, dropping it in a pile over his pool of seed.

"J-just a moment," he called out gruffly, staring wide-eyed at what he'd just done. He turned and walked to the door, unlocking it and taking the key before opening it and joining her in his room. He locked the door behind him and clutched the key in his fist, staring down at her sheepishly smiling form.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, reaching up and touching his cheek, noticing the streaks of wetness that moved down over his eyes to his chin. He flinched for a moment causing her to frown gentle.

"Yes," he muttered simply, before staring into her eyes, the light brown pools staring back into his, concerned and sad, "I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"Is there anything I can do?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

"No," he insisted, finally allowing himself to relax once again and hold her against him, "You've done so much already." He held her head in his hand, resting his chin on her scalp as he breathed her in again.

"I love you," she cooed softly, "I hope you know that."

"I love you too," he answered, his eyes closed and his lips pressing a soft kiss on the very top of her head. He clutched the key tightly, sighing against her, promising himself again. They had to remain innocent. There was no other way.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Things went on this way for days, and then weeks. Spring time finally came and Adam healed. At first the thought of seeing all of those who were freed from the curse was too much for him to bear. Belle would join him every day in his new room, bringing him every meal and sleeping by his side. It brought him endless comfort and soon it was easy for Adam to control his urges. After the thoughts he'd had when he relieved himself to fantasies of her, he knew it was her very safety was at risk. This fear made it so much easier for him to hold back the feelings he had begun to develop for her. He could tell she was struggling too. Every time they became too aroused, he could smell that sweetness about her that had caused him so much discomfort the first time he'd sampled its scent, but not when she felt this way, he found it less difficult to suppress his reaction. This wasn't the only reason she was struggling though. Where Adam had spent mostly all of his life secluded to one room, Belle had never stayed put. She had always dreamed of adventure and freedom. Being in this one room was beginning to ware on her cheerful spirit, no matter how much she enjoyed being by his side.

Belle had woken up before him and ventured down to the library, happy to have some time adventuring in her mind before Adam woke and she would return upstairs to be by his side. She lay back on the plush green sofa, her little feet dangling over the edge, her shoes on the floor below, turned in different ways from where she'd kicked them off. She hummed to herself as she flipped through the pages, glancing over at the window intermittently to see if the weather had changed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd went outside. She hardly saw the servants anymore. Adam was too shy to talk to them, especially after his first outburst as Mrs. Potts. It had been such a long winter, and now it was beautiful outside. She knew he'd probably just stay in his room all day, as he had for almost a month now. It was worse than before the curse was broken, but she knew it was probably very difficult to adjust to such a thought. She would be depressed too, she thought, if she knew she'd never be human again.

"Belle?"

She jumped as the deep voice came from the doorway. She poked her head over the back of the sofa and smiled at him. It had seemed like forever since she saw him out of the room. He smiled softly back at her, standing there in a new set of clothes, his fur shiny and freshly washed and combed. He wore a very dark green pair of pants and a white linen shirt with a frilled collar. Around his neck was a black and green cloak with a golden broach in the shape of a lion's head. He stood there with his head hanging lower than normal, sheepishly watching her as he shifted his weight from paw to paw, unsure if he should say anything else.

"You look handsome," she mused, getting up and slipping her shoes onto her feet before depositing her book on the sofa and joining him by the door.

"I had a bath," he murmured, feeling silly once he said it.

"So does that mean you're talking to everyone again?" she asked, arching her brow in interest as she linked her hand over his forearm.

"I met with Lumiere and Mrs. Potts," he began, turning and walking down the hall with her, taking in the sight of her in a dress other than her nightgown. She wore a short pastel orange dress with opaque white stockings and shoes. The dress was simple but elegant, and he wondered if the seamstress, Colette, had made this for her, as his new cape and pants had been made for him. Now that everyone else was human again, things had been very different. Food was much more extravagant and there were always new clothes. Even though he hadn't seen any of them until today, it seemed they had not forgotten him or Belle. He did like the look of her, her hair pulled back as usual but this time with more hair cascading down and in curls. The skirt fluffed out on either side, accentuating her hips. The collar came down over her collar bones and stopped just at the peak of her shoulders. The sleeves were tight and stopped at the middle of her arms, the chest dipping down in the center and pinned with a little cluster of pearls. The stomach area was corseted with a creamy orange fabric covered in while lace. She looked radiantly beautiful. It was clear to him now that the Colette was no longer a sewing machine, she was enjoying her work once again.

"And what did they say?"

"I apologized," he said quietly, her eyes darting up to meet his but he stared at the ground as they walked.

She glanced forward again, nodding a little in happiness at the news then looked back up at him again. "I think that was a good thing to do," she said with a smile, pulling him to the window and leaning her head against it as she held a large paw in her hands. "Can't we go out today?" she said with a sweet grin, squeezing his paw between her delicate fingers.

He smiled a bit and glanced out at the beautiful gardens, sweet roses lining the avenues, leading to fountains and large hedges. It had been a while since he ventured out to see the scenery. He had become so resentful of the flowers. He looked up at the sky, biting his lip a little as she thought to himself. It had already been his idea to take her out, having spoken with Lumiere earlier about if they were in order for Belle. He made a bit of a show, as if the idea was a struggle for him to picture before turning to her and nodding.

"I think we should," he agreed, excitedly taking her hand and pulling her down the corridor and to the stairs. She yelped playfully as he ran down the hall, a happy giggle emitting her lips as they moved to the first floor and through the large dining hall at the rear of the main castle and then out to the large stone stairs leading down to the gardens. He slowed down as they reached the bottom, taking in the sight of the first large fountain, jets of water shooting up past statues or angels and cherubs embracing.

"Have you ever come here alone?" he asked, linking arms with her again as he glanced over the edge of the fountain and into the crystal clear water.

"No," she admitted, looking up at him, "It was a bit too cold by the time I came." She'd been there since autumn and none of the flowers had been in bloom. She'd never even ventured around the castle until winter, and it wasn't until she really explored that she discovered the garden covered in snow and ice.

"I suppose you're right," he said with a little frown lingering over his lips, and suddenly he glanced down at her again, "Are you hungry?" She laughed sweetly at his unexpected excitement. It was so unlike him to bounce from topic to topic, but then again, it was unlike him to talk much at all.

"Well I did each breakfast but I suppose if you're hungry we could go inside," she said, gently stroking the fur of his hand.

"Not inside," he mused, turning and taking her down and away from the castle. There was a long stretch of loose tan gravel, tall white rose bushes on either side, leading deeper into the gardens. He glanced up at the bright blue sky, then down at her again. She really did make him feel happy again. She'd shown him so many things since she'd come, he thought it would be only fitting if he'd show her something too.

Finally they came to a large set of concentric circles, the largest being hedges, then the gravel path, then a grassy one, and then at the very center, a set of four benches and another fountain. On this grassy circle were many trees, shading the middle and a sweet smell filled the air. Adam let go of her arm and walked to the trees, reaching up and plucking a large green fruit and tossing it to her. She quickly reacted and reached up, catching with both hands and glancing down at it. It was a perfect succulent pear, the skin bright green and flecked with brown. She smiled widely and brought it to her nose, inhaling the sweet aroma.

"It's beautiful," she purred as he joined her again. She cupped both hands around it, bringing it to her lips and taking a nice bite, the juices dribbling out and down her cheeks causing her to giggle. She glanced up at him and he chuckled too, taking it from her hands and having a bite himself before removing a handkerchief from his pocket and handing her the small swatch of fabric.

"Thank you," she cooed, still chewing and giggling at her mess. He took her by the arm and led her to the fountain. She placed the cloth down and dipped her hands into the water rubbing them together and over her lips. She wiped her face and hands and Adam then took the cloth back and placed the pear in it like a small napkin before handing it back to her.

"There," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her to the stone bench and the two of them sat beside each other. "If you like that," he said with a little grin, "We have apple trees and cherries too." She smiled brightly at the thought of sweet and sour fresh cherries on top of delicious deserts and in warm pies.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you had an orchard?" she asked, taking a bite and handing him the fruit again, the two of them taking turns until it was finished.

"To be honest, I haven't come here in years. It was my mother's project. She always spent so much time in the gardens. I had never put much thought into flowers," he said with a small shrug. He had always thought flowers were a waste until he'd spent so many years staring at one, keeping it safe and secure. Now when he looked at all these plants without such negative feelings, he couldn't help but appreciate the time it took to make them look so beautiful and how wonderful they really were. He glanced over at Belle, reaching out and pushing a small loose bit of hair from her eyes as she nibbled the last bit of the pear from the core. She glanced up at him with a soft loving smile, reaching up and touching his paw. "I never put much thought into anything."

"You're thoughtful," she said sweetly, placing the pear core behind her on the bench and turning to look into his eyes, "You remembered how much I loved to read." She remembered how amazed she was when he told her she could have the library. All those wonderful books ready to take her on magical journeys, but she had her own little mystery now. She supposed that was just as good as most of the books he'd given her.

"I try to be, because I want you to know I care," he said honestly.

"Did you plan on bringing me out today?" she asked playfully, reaching up and stroking the luscious pelt of her cheeks, the fur silky and smooth. He knit his face into an expression of confusion, wondering how it was that she'd figured that out.

"How did you know that?" he said with a little huff, the breath blowing her hair away from her face again.

"Because you're thoughtful. You must have known I wanted to," she said with a little smile, reaching back now and taking the core. She stood and walked back to the tree, placing the scrap at its roots so it might feed itself again. He glanced at her, tensing his jaw a little as he turned back to the fountain, his heart beat racing a little bit faster. He had planned on bringing her to the gardens. Lumiere had helped him formulate the plan. He had something in mind, something that had been weighing heavily on his heart for some time now, even before she came back and before she'd even said she loved him.

"Belle," he said softly, as she came back and sat down beside him once again.

"Yes?" she answered, reaching out and placing a hand on his paw as he gripped the edge of the bench.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, his eyes lingering over the gravel pathway between them and the fountain, desperately attempting to find anything to look at but her. She stared at him for a moment, her brow furrowed for a moment before nodding.

"Of course. C-can you look at me?" she said delicately, moving over and sitting on his knee. She wrapped her one arm around his neck the other reaching out and stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. He closed his eyes gently and slipped and arm about her waist, looking down into her eyes. He took a deep breath, and then he spoke.

"What we've been doing…. Is this what you want? You've stayed here with me. Is that what you want? To stay here? To stay with me?" he asked carefully, lowering his eyes until the last word, waiting to see how she would react to his questions. She smiled instantly, her worry melting away as she reached out and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I do want to stay," she murmured softly, sitting up again to look into his eyes, "Why would you even ask after all this?" He frowned a bit, his other hand now placed on her lap, fingers arced around her thigh to keep her steady.

"Well, what we've been doing…We've been spending all of our time together, even the nights," he said, his voice getting quieter towards the end out of embarrassment. If blushing were possible he would have been and Belle even noticed she could feel his heart beat speedily thumping through his neck as her arm lingered around him.

"Does that upset you?" she asked, concern lacing her voice as she cupped his cheek in her hand, frowning softly.

"No," he said quickly, his voice still a smoky whisper.

"Then why are you so anxious," she whispered back, reaching up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek, tenderly smoothing his shoulder through his cape.

"Belle, we do as husband and wife do," he said suddenly, her hand stopping in its path. She stared up at him, her eyes a little bit wider than normal as she felt her heart all but stop. He glanced up at her, fearful of that response and the both of them sat there in silence for a few moments, eyes locked, both attempting to figure out what the other wanted and then finally.

"Is that what you want Belle because I can think of nothing else in the world that want so much. I want to keep you so desperately. When you left I thought I might die. I love you so much. I just don't know if I can go on this way, sleeping in your arms, knowing I have this wish. I could never ask you to stay if it's not what you wanted, but if you love me and you want to stay here with me, no matter what I am," he said softly, the large knot in his throat almost muting him in his profession, "Then I have to know if it's your wish too to be mine. Do you want to be my wife?"

She stared into his eyes, her own amber ones echoing his desperation as they filled his tears, threatening to cry. She was without expression. He winced gently, his nose wrinkling as stared back at her. He finally looked down, the feeling in his throat nearly consuming his words again.

"I-I understand if you can't. I know I'm-," he began but suddenly her body was crushed against his, her lips pressed against his, her hands clenched around fistfuls of the fabric of his cloak.

"Yes," she whispered, her lips barely leaving his before kissing him again, "Yes. Please."

He needed no further answer, and his lips captured hers, his arms coming to wrap around her, enveloping her in his warm embrace. It was hurried as if it had been a lifetime since their lips had met and passion poured between them as if their very souls were pressing up their throats and joining as one between their parted lips. He allowed her little tongue to linger into his mouth sweetly lapping at his, and his answered back the flat, dog-like edges tickling her and causing a giggle to escape. She pawed at his shoulders, finally slipping her hands back and into his fur at the base of his head, delighting in the sensation of the softness against the creases between her fingers. She did want to be his wife no matter what he was or whatever he would be. She loved him more than anything in the world. And he wanted her more desperately than he had ever wanted anything. She had broken some sort of spell that had been over his heart, helping him to become kind and caring. She had taught him to love and he could never imagine being without her again and now, it seemed, he wouldn't have to.

He finally released her, the both of them parting with eyes still shut tight. He rested his forehead against hers, happy in his ability to control himself. She opened her eyes gently and he did too and they stared for a moment.

He noticed little streaks going down her cheeks where tears had streamed down and he reached up, carefully drying her eyes.

"Don't cry," he whispered lovingly, pulling her close again and hugging her tightly.

"I'm too happy," she sobbed through a laugh.

"So would it be too much if I offered you jewelry?" he said in a playful tone, caressing the bottom of her chin as he lifted it to kiss her sweetly.

"What?" she asked in disbelief, continuing to chuckle as he scooped her up and placed her on the seat beside him, reaching into the pocket of his pants and dropping to a knee before her, his eyes now level with hers.

"Belle," he began, producing a small crystal box and opening it to reveal a beautiful silver filigree ring with a dazzling pearlescent opal snug between the rungs, "Please be my wife."

She all but leaped off the bench and into his arms, showing kisses all over his cheeks and lips, murmuring 'yes' over and over. He clutched her tightly before sitting her on his knee and helping to take the ring from the box and place it on her finger.

"I don't understand. How on earth did you get this?" she asked softly, the ring perfectly accenting her slender finger as she held her hand out to show him.

"It's a family heirloom. It was always meant to be just a token but I always thought it was too beautiful to be just thrown in a pile of riches. It was made for your hand," he mused, taking her little hand with one finger and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"I love you," she cooed, her bejeweled hand resting on his cheek as she kissed him again.

"And I love you," he said softly, "So what will it be? More gardening or shall we go back and show everyone?" He smiled and glanced into her eyes.

"Can't we just stay here for a while?" she asked sweetly, resting her head on his shoulder, and Adam cocked his head, his cheek atop her head, both of their eyes closed as they embraced.

"Anything you wish," he whispered.


End file.
